Happy Birthday, Allison
by demislonghair
Summary: Allydia fluff. Allison hates birthdays, Lydia loves them. Just once, Lydia decides to give Allison what she really wants.


Allison had never had a good relationship with birthdays. In high school she'd tried to hide them, to avoid discussing the fact that she was a year older than her classmates. As she'd grown up the need for that had dissipated somewhat, but she still didn't like them. Drawing attention to the fact that she was getting older seemed like an odd way to celebrate – particularly when there were so many better reasons to throw a party. Lydia, of course, was her polar opposite – she _loved_ birthdays. And every year they had the same discussion – Lydia wanting to throw her a big party, Allison arguing her down to a gathering of a few friends, and neither one of them totally happy with the compromise.

So when her twenty-eighth birthday dawned, Allison spent the day expecting something wild and crazy around every corner. The day started off pretty normally, with Lydia instigating some early-morning birthday sex (and ticking off another of Allison's fantasies in the process) before they shared a long shower and she reluctantly headed out to work. Manager of a sporting goods store might not have been what her parents had wanted for her, but it was satisfying and decently well-paying, and most of all it was _normal._

The funny thing about being called back from the dead was the perspective it gave you. She'd only been dead for ten minutes or so when Lydia screamed to the heavens and done…something. No one had figured out just what that something was, but after a crash of thunder straight out of a movie Allison had opened her eyes with a gasp. The scar of her sword wound would be with her the rest of her life, but she lived. From that point on Lydia's powers had been sporadic, and Allison had turned away from her heritage. She knew that there needed to be hunters, that they kept people safe, but she'd experienced death and couldn't bring herself to send anyone else there. So while she remained the figurehead of the Argents, her father was the real leader.

When they had walked across the stage and received their diplomas, Lydia had all but leapt into her arms with a whispered request. "Get me the hell out of this town." And Allison had been more than happy to comply. They'd packed their things, loaded a panel truck bought cheap from a used car lot, and headed east. New York wasn't where they thought they'd end up, but it was where the road had taken them. Lydia won herself a scholarship to NYU, and Allison had joined the workforce – she'd had enough of school. Their lives hadn't always been easy or simple, but they had stared down werewolves and nogitsune. There was nothing life could throw at them that they couldn't learn to live with.

There was an unseasonable snow blanketing the city, and when Allison made it back to their apartment she opened the door and began to brush herself off without looking around. It wasn't until a flickering light caught her eye that she looked up to see Lydia seated on the couch with a smirk tugging at her lips, surrounded by lit candles. "What is this?" she smiled, slipping out of her jacket and boots.

"This is me, granting your birthday wish. No party, no one else, just the two of us. I've got dinner in the oven, a bottle of red waiting to be poured, and a set of green underwear that really brings out my eyes. And that's how we're going to spend the night." Allison's eyes welled up a little, and she laid herself down on the couch with her head in Lydia's lap.

"Lyds – thank you. I know you'd rather be partying."

"What I want to do is to spend your birthday with you. Everything else is just secondary." Lifting the hem of her shirt, Lydia ran her fingers over Allison's scar. "I didn't think there'd be any more birthdays. Or Christmases, or Arbor Days, or anything else. I still don't know how it happened, but having you back was the best thing that ever happened to me. So if you want a quiet birthday, love, then that's what we're going to have."

Leaning up, Allison pressed her lips to Lydia's with a smile. "I really love you, you know. There aren't many girls who can say their lover brought them back from the dead. I love you, and I love this life we've made. The life of a hunter, as I understand it, is a pretty short one – and I don't know about banshees, but I'd be willing to bet they're not long for the world either-"

"Not winning any style points right now, babe," Lydia teased.

"Hush, I'm not finished. And that's why I'm glad we got out of Beacon Hills. We're not a hunter and a banshee, not here. You're Lydia, future winner of the Fields Medal. I'm Allison, manager and optics expert. We're going to live a long and normal life, and when it's over we'll go peacefully and happily."

Lydia's eyes were bright, and her throat worked for a moment as she tried to reply. "Someday you're going to have to teach me that trick – the one where you know exactly the right things to say, and when to say them. Unless that's some Argent family secret."

Allison snorted laughter. "You met Gerard, right? Not exactly a smooth talker." Whatever hole her uncle was languishing in, it wasn't nearly deep or dark enough for Allison's taste. But as long as he never appeared in their lives again, it would be enough for her. "Pretty sure that's just an Allison gift."

"Either way, I'm glad you have it. Sweet-talker." Lydia leaned down and they shared another quick kiss. "Now what do you say we feed you, so that you've got the energy to get in bed with me afterward?"

"I say that's a hell of a plan." Allison sat up and took Lydia's hand, swinging them gently as they moved toward the kitchen. "So…there's going to be a surprise party tomorrow, isn't there? With the whole pack?"

"And your dad," Lydia nodded. "I could only buy us the one day, so you'd better enjoy it while you can."

As Allison looked out the window at the snow, she smiled. She could do that.


End file.
